He Will Teach You The Ways
by QueenOfDarkComedy
Summary: John Bishop and Charles Lee Ray discuss their philosophies on life. John presents the possibility of life after death to Chucky, who is skeptical, but listens ank you to my friend, Dylan who helped me with a few details in this! :)


"What are you saying, John?"

"I'm telling you, Chucky: You can live on. We aren't bound to just the human body we were born with."

"Yeah right…." Charles Lee Ray scoffed and took a puff of his cigarette.

"The only thing that limits you is your own mind. You can either take it or leave it." John poured some more tea. "Damballa answers all who ask him for help."

"I never believed in any of this gris gris shit…" Chucky threw his cigarette forcefully into the ashtray and sat back into John's couch.

"Then why are we having this conversation? You ask me for help. You asked me if I believed there was a way to prolong life. I'm giving you a chance to learn something beyond what you believe is capable." John gathered up his paintbrushes.

"I needed the inspiration." Chucky lit another cigarette.

"What are you talking about?" John asked perplexed.

"You know…the mural I'm working on for our class?" Chucky talked with a mouth full of cigarette.

"Yes?"

"It's my way of exploring the abyss that is life."

"Well, that all depends on your perspective." John got up from the couch and walked over to the mantel. "Tell me…what do you believe in."

"Not a whole hell of a lot." Chucky blew out a smoke ring. "It's my philosophy that life screws us all in the end. There is no God, the devil, hell, there is no good and evil, there is only power…and those lucky enough to have fuckin' stole it off the hard working backs of others.

What would Chucky know about 'hard work', John thought...All he ever saw Chucky do was hold himself up in that apartment of his on the south side.

"Hmmmm…." John chose his words carefully. "But you must remember everyone has to be held accountable for his or her actions, Chucky."

"There's really no proof of that." Chucky raised an eyebrow. "There's plenty of these rich cock suckers out there who will always take more for themselves while leaving the rest of us with nothing. I'm fuckin' fed up with that shit! And don't think for a second that you don't know what I'm talkin' about, John. The landlord of our building evicted you without a fuckin' seconds notice. You remember that?"

"….Yes…."

"They aren't accountable for shit. It's a system and it's fuckin' rigged." Chucky spat. "We're rats in a cage. And if we don't do something about it now, we'll be fucking trapped and executed."

"You really believe that you're trapped?"

"Aren't we all?"

"You're scared of death." John observed.

"What?" this threw Chucky off.

John smiled. "Come. Let me show you something." he waved for Chucky to follow him.

John led Chucky into a dark room. John went in first and lit a candle. With the lighting of that one candle, it triggered three others in each corner of the room…it was like some form of magick. There was a symbol of two snakes, coiled around two posts with a heart shape in the middle, drawn in chalk on the ground.

"…How did you do that?" Chucky asked, now filled with cautious curiosity.

"I told you: Your mind creates your reality." John answered. "There are forces beyond yours or even my comprehension. But given time…we can come to learn about these forces and use them as tools to improve our everyday life."

"…I'm listening," Chucky folded his arms and focused his energy on what John was saying.

"Explaining it to you in words won't do it full justice. It must be shown. Come…"

John walked into what looked like a dark abyss. Chucky followed. "Shit…" Chucky rolled his eyes.

John brought Chucky to what looked like a house in New Orleans. It didn't look modern. Chucky looked around.

"John…where the hell are we?"

John signaled for Chucky to stay silent and watch.

A woman, that looked as if she were of African or Haitian decent, walked into a room. She wore a long, white, flowing summer dress. She carried with her a bowl of herbs and sprinkled it around the same exact snake coiled heart symbol John had in the room.

"That, my friend, is Maria Laveau."

"Who?"

"She is the keeper of our ancient tradition."

"And what's that?" asked Chucky.

John and Chucky watched Marie as she walked into the other room and came back holding a child; a little boy who seemed very ill. She set him on the ground, within the circle that the snake symbol sat in. She went back into the next room and brought what looked like a mannequin-like/life like waxed figure.

"Usually, we would use another human as a vessel…but this human carving will house this ill boy's soul for now."

Chucky was not sure what he was watching…

Marie Laveau placed her hands over the little boy and the wooden carving and begin to speak aloud: "Ade due Damballa. Give me the power, I beg of you. Leveau mercier du bois chaloitte. Secoise entienne mais pois de morte. Morteisma lieu de vocuier de mieu vochette. Endenlieu pour du boisette Damballa! Endenlieu pour du boisette Damballa! Endenlieu pour du boisette Damballa!"

Marie paused; Waiting…

A good fifteen seconds later the mannequin sat up.

"Huh…" was all Chucky could say.

Chucky and John found themselves in John's living room a little while later; discussing various topics...such as life, death, and voodoo.

"So, how long have you been teachin' this stuff?" asked Chucky.

"Since my early 20s, more or less..." John poured some tea for Chucky.

"What do you get out of it?"

"I enjoy helping others," replied John humbly. "It keeps me young."

"Sounds energy draining to me." Chucky scoffed.

"I do for others without expecting anything in return. As long as they got the help they needed, then that is enough to make me happy."

"Aren't you afraid someone's going to stab you in the back so to speak?"

"I trust all the students I bring in, Chucky, It's my way of showing that I believe in them. Just like I believe in you."

"You think I have potential?" Chucky smirked.

"In you, I see a lot of fear; a fear of death, a fear of being trapped; and a fear of living in a cycle. But that can change, Chucky. You have people who love and care for you. Take your girlfriend, Tiffany for example: When I looked into her eyes when we met, I saw in her an adoration for you. You could have a happy and long life together.

Chucky burst out laughing. "Me? Married to Tiffany?" he continued to laugh. "I'm sorry, but that's hilarious."

"Why?"

"We're steady and all...but give it a few months. She'll let herself go."

John shook his head. "Perspective, Chucky...I'm telling you...You don't appreciate what you have."

"Bullshit."

"Prove it."

"Fine!" Chucky through his cigarette butt in the ashtray on the coffee table in front of him. He stood up and headed for the door. "I'm gonna make you something you won't soon forget. We'll call it a gift."

Sometime later in his own apartment, Chucky through down several paint brushes and a paint palette. He took a couple of steps back, and smirked evilly.

There, on his living room wall, was a massive mural of the cycle of Damballa; Chucky having incorporated himself and John into the painting.

In a corner of the massive painting, in blood red letters, it read:

_'OH THANK YOU, MIGHTY DAMBALLA FOR LIFE AFTER DEATH' _


End file.
